


From the black of your eyes

by sonhoedesrazao



Series: Desember 2016 [1]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post Season 3, isak meets his mom (briefly) and the rest is just pointless fluff, self-indulgent ramblings, spoilers for everything!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8879527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonhoedesrazao/pseuds/sonhoedesrazao
Summary: Lørdag 17.12.16.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【授翻】From the black of your eyes/在你瞳孔深处](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8951551) by [ikerestrella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikerestrella/pseuds/ikerestrella)



_Lørdag 17.12.16 kl 9.17_

“You don’t have to, you know.”

Even’s voice is subdued in the early morning atmosphere, the slightest puff of air next to his ear. Isak is still half dreaming. The party ended late, and they didn’t go to sleep right away. First because Isak discovered Magnus and Vilde had disappeared into his bedroom, and had to throw all his sheets away and beg Eskild to borrow some of his ( _Seriously, Isak, wash them already_ ) and later because—well, Even was in a good mood. A seriously good mood, such as he hadn’t since _before_. He gave Isak a slow smile, raised his eyebrows suggestively, and Isak’s sleepiness disappeared in two seconds flat.

So now he’s sprawled on his freshly made bed, Even’s arm circling his waist, warmth and contentment making him drowsy. “Mm?”

“Meet my parents,” Even clarifies.

Isak blinks himself awake and turns to face him. Even looks serious and intent and unfairly conscious for someone who just woke up. But then again, who knows how long he’s been awake. Isak touches his temple, runs a hand through soft hair. They both have morning breath and it’s disgusting, but he gives Even a quick kiss anyway.

“Yesterday it was your mother,” he teases, smiling to take any bite from the words. “Now it’s _parents_? Any cousins expecting us at your place too?”

Even smiles slowly, half amused, half grateful. It dissolves some of the seriousness, and Isak breathes a little easier. He is just beginning to understand how Even works—how he thinks, and _how much_ he thinks—and he likes being able to distract Even from it. He’s pretty sure Even likes it too.

He still doesn’t get it—what it’s like to live in Even’s head. All that worrying. _The brain is alone_. It was true when he said he never thought about such things. Since then, however, a lot has happened. He felt lonelier than ever, trapped in his own thoughts ( _Why did he lie? Why did he go back to her? Was any of it as real as it felt?_ ) and he thinks he understands a little now. But things got better when he started being honest with himself and the people around him, even if his heart was breaking at the time. He knows it’s not like that for Even—that Even will fall into these thoughts despite the fact everything seems to be going well. Maybe Isak will never really understand what it’s like.

But he loves Even—he won’t say it, fearful to break the _now_ they’re living in, but the truth is a brightness in his heart, a lightness in his stomach, a tremble in his fingertips—and there’s this ache in his chest whenever Even looks weighed down by some terrible shadow, as well as the most exhilarating thrill whenever Isak manages to turn it into something softer. It’s almost too much at times, both sides of it. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Dad might be there,” Even concedes. “No one else. I mean it, though. We can go some other day.”

Isak mulls it over, peering into his eyes. There’s a balance to this—relationships—that he’s only just starting to get. The way you have to guess, feel your way around someone else’s mind and heart. It makes him conscious of his own words.

“Do _you_ want us to go some other day?”

Even lips curl into a pout and his eyes evade Isak’s. “No,” he mutters after a moment.

“Okay.” Isak smiles. That was easy. “Then we’ll go. I want to hear some embarrassing stories about you.”

Even raises his eyes again, clear and appreciative and so tender it makes his breath catch. He’s never wanted to look into someone’s eyes like that before—in fact, he avoided it, thinking they’d be able to read everything he kept buried inside—but with Even he thrives on it. Isak kisses him, morning breath be damned, and feels an answering smile uncurling against his mouth.

 _So good when it’s good_ , he told Eva _._ So good he can make it through the bad.

*

_Lørdag 17.12.16 kl 13.05_

When he’s properly awake and dressed—he puts on a nice buttoned-up shirt, which Even teases him about—they go get something to eat before going to his place. He’s relieved they’re not going having lunch there, the prospect a little too daunting, despite what he said about being chill.

As they walk there now, though, he can physically feel his chill disappearing. His hands hard sweating, despite the cold. Even is so important to him. Isak wants his parents to like him. Did they like Sonja? Fuck. They probably loved her. And Isak is the guy who led Even to break up with her, after she was with Even for _four years_ , and saw him through his worst times and… _god._

“Hey,” Even says when Isak stops in the middle of the street. One hand finds his neck, thumb trailing his jaw. “What is it?”

“Do they think I’m an asshole?”

“What?” Even laughs, loud and incredulous. “Who?”

“Your parents. Do they think you had a manic episode and I just—left you? And didn’t even _call_?”

Even sobers instantly. Those eyes focus on his him again, both hands now framing his face and giving him a little shake. His voice is low and sincere. “They know _none_ of that was your fault.”

He doesn’t know what to say so he just nods, the knot in his gut loosening. Even kisses his cheek; Isak falls into the movement and it turns into a hug. They’re in public and he couldn’t care less. Even’s voice is a whisper against his ear. “You haven’t done _anything_ wrong.”

“Mm.” His skin prickles, not unpleasantly. “I’ve done some things wrong.”

Even steps back and grins. “Is this about all those lies with you got away with?”

Isak groans and hides his face in his hands, then starts walking again. “Jesus Christ. You’re never learning about any of that.”

“Oh, is this how it’s going to be? Keeping secrets of your deep dark past?”

“You haven’t told me every shitty thing you’ve ever done! In fact, you haven’t told me—” He stops midsentence. “I mean, whatever. It’s in the past, we don’t have to talk about it.”

There’s a silence and he glances sideways. Even’s looking down. _Great, Isak. This thinking before speaking thing is going really well._ He opens his mouth but Even breaks the silence first.

“I _haven’t_ told you a lot.” He glances at Isak, a question in his eyes.

“It’s fine,” he says quickly.

“You don’t want to know?” Even seems confused.

“I mean, I _do_ , but only if you want to _tell_ me, and you don’t have to,” he trips over his words, hands gesturing wildly. “I mean, of course I’m curious—well not curious, _interested_ , because I care about you. But you don’t owe me, like, an explanation or… what’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” His heart is beating fast but Even throws a hand across his back and leaves it there. “I care about you too.”

“Oh.” He knew that, yet it still makes him feel warm all over. He almost trips over his own feet as he glances at Even’s lips and considers kissing him. “That’s nice.”

They walk a few steps, then, “You’ve heard the rumors?”

Even’s voice is casual but Isak senses the tension beneath the words. He nods, no point in lying. There was talk all over the school, which he knows not because anyone told him about it after Vilde, but by the looks and the whispers when people thought he wasn’t looking. He asked the boys about it and they confirmed the rumors about Even and his old school. He finds himself scowling, angry as he was when he first heard it.

“People need to stop gossiping,” he mutters. “It’s none of their business.”

Even smiles, arm tightening briefly around him. “I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“If you don’t care?” he asks tentatively.

“Of course I don’t care!”

“Then it’s fine. I mean, I cared before because I thought you might hear it.” His voice turns soft, like when he told Isak he was at the kosegroup meeting to see him. It does things to Isak he can’t even begin to describe.

Even gives a small shrug and his voice returns to normal. “But I guess you’ve seen worse now.”

“Still, it’s wrong to talk about your back,” Isak says, relieved Even seems not to be affected by it. He worried someone would say something to him when he went back to school and that it might make it all… worse.

“I did a lot of shitty things,” Even says suddenly. “That’s why I… you know. Came here.”

“That’s different, though,” he says, frowning. “What you did when you were sick. That’s not like what I did.”

Even swallows, then gives a sly grin. “Every time you say that I just get more and more curious, you know.”

“Hey, is that your house? We’re here already. Too bad this conversation has to end.”

Even’s laugh accompanies them to the front door.

*

_Lørdag 17.12.16 kl 16.26_

“You didn’t play for me that time I was here.” Isak runs his hand through the acoustic guitar hanging in the middle of the bedroom. “Was that not part of your seduction plan?”

“My seduction plan?” Even asks, lips curling in a smile. He’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed, where they once ate toast with cardamom and Isak could feel himself changing.

“You admitted you stalked me,” Isak reminds him, picking up the guitar. “For like, a _month_ before the kose meeting. You _so_ had a plan.”

Even grins slowly, like he’s enjoying a sweet he’s been longing to eat for a long time. He nods towards the guitar. “Bring it here.”

Isak drops next to him and watches him tune it, fascinated by the movement of his hands. He wants to tease that smile out of him again.

“Remember when you pretended to have good music taste to impress me?”

“I love NAS,” Even shoots back, full of mock indignation.

“Mm, and Gabrielle.”

“I’m versatile. And it worked, didn’t it?”

He shrugged. “I was already into you.”

“Yeah?” A pause. “I wondered.”

“How could you _wonder_? I was so obvious.” He laughs, thinking about the way he must have looked at Even then. Hell, he probably still looked at him the same, the only difference is that he does it openly and doesn’t care how it looks. Doesn’t even try to stop himself.

“Maybe. I wasn’t sure, though. Not until the kosegroup party.”

Isak remembers it—the slow approach, his heart thundering in his chest, not being brave enough to raise his eyes, his mind a litany of _please, please, please_. Now he holds Even’s stare as he admits, “You don’t know how much I wanted to kill Noora after that.”

Even laughs, bright and lovely. “Yeah, but that gave me a chance to take you for a swim.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “So dramatic.”

“You loved it.”

 _I love you._ He thinks he did even then, though it was a raw, instinctual feeling that could’ve easily led to nothing. He didn’t know what it entailed; he didn’t know life was more complicated than that. He prefers it the way it is now, though—the way he knows Even more and more with each day; the way they learn each other, body and mind and heart; the way Even is no longer a dream, but a reality.

“Yeah,” he says softly.

“What should I play you?”

There’s a knock on the door. “Even?”

“ _Yeah_?”  

His mother puts her head in. “Come get something to eat before your boyfriend starves.”

“Alright.”

“Also, your father’s home.”

“ _Alright_.”

“Alright, alright, sorry to interrupt,” she teases and closes the door.

Even turns to him, hands idly touching the strings. “Feel up to another meeting?”

Even introduced him to his mother earlier, his voice pointedly casual. “Mom, this is Isak.” She smiled at Isak, as kind and genuine and warm as Even, and gave him a hug that almost choked him up. “It’s so nice to meet you, finally,” she said. “Finally?” he asked. She glanced at her son, raising an eyebrow. “You have no idea how much I’ve heard about you.” Then Even simply grabbed his hand and pulled him away. “We’ll be at my room, mom,” he said, and Isak laughed, and that was it. No stress.  

He smiles again now, not scared anymore. “Yeah. But play me something first.”

*

_Lørdag 17.12.16 kl 21.21_

“What are we _doing_?” Eskild drawls.

“We’re about to watch a movie,” Isak replies from the couch, where he’s leaning against Even’s chest, so comfortable he could stay that way for hours. “You want the TV?”

“No, that’s fine. What are we seeing?”

Isak doesn’t have time to stop him as he plops down on the other couch.

“I don’t know,” he says.

“I’m still thinking,” Even says. “There’s so much Isak hasn’t seen, it’s really distressing.”

“Sorry,” he replies half-heartedly, with an eyeroll Even doesn’t get to see. “Want to go with your favorite director?”

“My favorite director?”

“Baz Luhrmann.”

Even takes a second, then laughs, throwing his head back. “Oh, yeah, I forgot you stalked me. Good choice. How about Moulin Rouge?”

Eskild gasps. “I _love_ Moulin Rouge.”

“Who doesn’t?” Even asks.

“Noora!” Eskild shouts. “Linn! Come watch a movie!”

Isak groans quietly and feels Even laugh against his chest. “I like your flatmates.”

“Good, cause they love you. Is this going to be as sad as _Romeo and Juliet_?”

“You’ve seen that?”

Isak grunts noncommittally and Even tilts his head to look at him.

“You’ve seen it because of _me_?”

“Whatever, let’s watch the movie,” he’s laughing by the end of the sentence, though, because Even’s kissing his cheek, murmuring nonsense into his ear, happy, so happy, and Isak is bursting with it. “Yes, I’ve seen it because of you!”

“Cause you had such a crush on me!”

“Shut up. What is it your fascination with these sad movies, anyway?”

Even thinks about the question. Noora emerges from her room and she and Eskild go make some popcorn and knock on Linn’s door, and Even remains still until he finally tightens his hold on Isak. He didn’t expect an answer, but now he’s curious to see what it’ll be.

“They make tragedy beautiful.”

“Hm,” he mutters, not sure what to say. “You like tragedy, then?”

“I used to.” He feels Even relax behind him, then; a sigh escapes his lips, which find Isak’s temple and place a soft kiss there. “I found something better now.”

Isak takes his hand, and it’s good, so good.

**Author's Note:**

> This is perhaps the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written, which is saying a lot. If you read this, thank you. I hope you (and I) recover from the end of season 3 soon. The title is from Birdy's "All About You" and you can find me on [Tumblr](http://sonhoedesrazao.tumblr.com)!


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